One Last Time
by Morphing Kashi
Summary: Oneshot. Deathfic. It had began as another type of training. It had evolved into something else. But everything is brief in the ninja world and we never get one last time.


A/N: I wrote this 3 years ago in the LJ kakanaru community and I just noticed I had forgotten to upload it here as well. Enjoy.

"_Where are you…? I wonder__. Away. I can't embrace or hold you tight… I try to look at the stars, but I can't see them. They are all so far away.. Like you._

_You were a star as well. Fallen. In my arms. I was walking under the starlit sky one night, under the soothing sounds of silence, and as I was embracing the dark loneliness that comes with it, you fell into my arms. A small, sad, fallen star. I embraced you and held you close. And we became good friends, you ( the star ) and I. _

_A__s we were gazing at the sky every night, you were craving to go back, for that is were you belonged; but you couldn't – I didn't know why, and I kept taking care of you. And slowly, your light came back, this time brighter than before. I thought that you would then like to fly back to the vast cosmos, where was your rightful and true place, and blind us all with your divine light. But you didn't._

_On the contrary, you turned towards me. __You looked at me tentatively and decided that my embrace, for you, was the biggest sky. The brightest sun. The warmest planet. You decided that my embrace, for you, was the universe. _

_And you gave me your light;__ I gave you my soul in return. We united. Became one… A fiery, turbulent, wonderful comet. We crossed the world, and left only ruins behind us. _

_But__ when the comet's flare went out, we became two parts again. The star and the man. And you remained in my temple. I worshipped you, like a God, as you truly deserved, and you were happy. And you worshipped me as well. _

_And__ one day you unfolded your golden, bright wings and touched me with your fingertips. An almighty sun. You filled me with your warmth and light and made me another God. One sun next to another. We held hands and our flesh melted, interweaving forever. Until we became one sun again, big and bright. Warm. Absolute._

_T__he little star you once were never again remembered the feeling of solitude and sadness; of loneliness and despair. Because I was always there for you, making sure you would remain the wonderful sun that you always were – and never knew. _

_I am sorry I have __to go. I wish I could hold you one last time. Please, don't fade away."_

Naruto was clutching tightly in his hands the only thing Kakashi had left before he had died. It was written with effort, he could say, for the jounin's last breaths must not have been easy. In some places there was dirt, in other places there was blood. But his handwriting, calligraphic and always beautiful – like the true essence of his soul – had remained unaffected.

No one in Konoha knew to whom this farewell letter was addressed – no one but him. _He _ knew. Kneeling in front of his dead lover's body, alone inside the cold walls of Konoha's morgue, Naruto felt a stream of warm tears running from his eyes.

They had kept it a secret; Naruto had thought it would have been better for Kakashi's reputation if nobody knew about him being with the "demon". The jounin had never cared for the public opinion, but Naruto had insisted so the older man had finally gotten along with it. Now, even in death, he hadn't revealed anything.

He felt sharp nails digging into his flesh; rage engulfing his body like a second layer of skin and long teeth splitting his lips, drawing fresh blood. He didn't care that the Kyuubi's rage was leaking all over the room, tearing the walls apart and eliminating anything inside it's range. Right now he was too angry to mourn.

It had started as a typical case of a sensei wanting to show his student the other aspects of life – apart from the fighting one – seeing as Naruto couldn't get any woman to like him. The only girl that had liked him once was now dead – a conspiracy against the Hyuuga clan had cost the precious heiress's life two years ago, at the still tender age of 16.

At first, Kakashi had showed him how to properly treat and court young ladies. Naruto would feel a pang of jealousy every time Kakashi would shamelessly flirt with another female in front of him in order to show him how it was done; what was more, the jealousy would be accompanied by pain when the female would reciprocate the interest – which was more often than not - and both his sensei and the girl would get lost in the subtle dance of courting for a while.

He had become aggressive and irate towards Kakashi without realizing it after the first couple of weeks of this type of training. Noticing this, the jounin had suggested they then moved to the next step; that was, showing Naruto how the pleasures of the flesh were provided.

At this, he had almost killed Kakashi with the amount of killing intent the Kyuubi had leaked – it had been five tails or so, he vaguely remembered. The thought alone of watching Kakashi making love to another girl would spark Kyuubi tails around him. Strange; he hadn't realized he envied the jounin so much. Or was it envy indeed?

When he had collapsed, exhausted from the rage and the sinister chakra that had been thickly wrapped around him, Kakashi had curved his eye upwards and suggested that there was always another way: Naruto would make a kage bunshin of his take his female form and Kakashi would practice on that one. Surprisingly enough, Naruto had agreed with no second thoughts.

He had been deeply ashamed to admit to himself that when the clones were gone, he could still feel the amount of ecstasy on their body; the deep desire for the jounin's caresses and the lingering for more. He could not only feel it as remnants of a clone's actions, but as desires within his own original body – which had panicked him.

He had tentatively gone to Kakashi then, full of shame for himself, and told him he wanted those lessons to stop because he was feeling uncomfortable. The jounin had held his face softly and looked him seriously in the eyes, asking if that was the true reason. He had squirmed and turned, but Kakashi's gaze was haunting him, holding a power on his mind he couldn't exactly place; he only knew he couldn't lie.

Turning his eyes towards the ground he had mumbled that he liked what the female clones felt and wanted to feel it on his own – he hadn't revealed the extent of it, because he would have died of shame if he ever admitted that, but he had let the jounin take a guess instead and stood there, frozen, waiting for rejection – for what followed was always rejection.

When he had felt Kakashi's arms sliding under his jacket and smoothly caressing the soft skin beneath for the fist time – his real skin, with real desire, for the first time in his life - , he had almost whimpered. What had followed had been an overwhelming ecstasy of feelings and emotions and had been repeated many, many times from then onwards.

It hadn't taken long for Naruto to realize that he was in love with Kakashi – but when he had, shivering from the anguish, confessed his feelings inside the strong embrace that seemingly protected him from all harm, the answer had been a soft kiss on his spiky hair and a cryptic smile.

The decision for secrecy had followed soon afterwards: they wouldn't hold hands in public, or embrace or caress each other's cheeks; Naruto was dreading the disapproval of the villagers. He never wanted Kakashi to be treated badly because of him – which was bound to happen if people ever found out about their secret. He knew why and how his father had died, and he didn't want to make Kakashi suffer the same.

But now, all that was gone. Buried in the past, along with all the stolen moments they had ever shared. He growled. Whoever had killed Kakashi would pay. He would hunt them down like an animal and cause them immense pain before granting them the merciful favor of dying. Kyuubi's cruelty was leaking in his soul, affecting his decisions and psyche. He didn't care. He didn't bother. All the motive he needed was the dead body at his feet and the rumply letter in his hands. All the clues he wanted was the smell of another person's blood on the jounin's clothes.

Sprinting on all four, he leapt away, the red chakra protecting him from everyone who would try to stand in his way, the nine tails swishing with fury behind him, his killing intent petrifying everyone in the village. He would either take revenge or die and he didn't care what or who would try to stop him – he would eliminate them all and make his lover's spirit rest in peace.

Nobody tried to stop him; nobody tried to even move and prevent him from running away. They knew he would come back in the end, broken but alive – for he always came back and everybody knew that Naruto couldn't die before becoming the Hokage. Before he would die, they all had to meet him one last time.


End file.
